


turn up the slam

by akamine_chan



Series: Professional Griefers [2]
Category: Bandom, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), Professional Griefers (Music Video)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 10:12:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/pseuds/akamine_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poison keeps tabs on Gerard, of course he does.  Poison isn't stupid.  Gerard can be a powerful enemy or a useful ally, and Poison hasn't decided which he is.  Poison's not sure <i>Gerard</i> knows which he wants to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	turn up the slam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashers_kiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashers_kiss/gifts).



> Direct sequel to _the dead go faster_ ; probably won't make a lot of sense without reading that first.
> 
> This story took a lot longer to write than I'd thought, mainly because both Poison and I got more attached to g3rard than we'd initially planned.
> 
> Many, many thanks to my eternally awesome beta Andeincascade, for her patience and time and love.
> 
> Thanks to Hazel-rah for writing me some porn as reward and inspiration for getting this done.
> 
> And finally, title from _Professional Griefers_ by Deadmau5.
> 
> This is for Dark_Siren's belated birthday. Sorry it's not happier, bb. /o\

Poison keeps tabs on Gerard, of course he does. Poison isn't stupid. Gerard can be a powerful enemy or a useful ally, and Poison hasn't decided which he is. Poison's not sure _Gerard_ knows which he wants to be.

So Poison makes sure the intel filters back to him, and over time it's clear that Gerard's playing both sides for his own advantage.

Poison's got no problem with that; only a fool would ignore their own best interests in favor of a nebulous greater altruistic good and Gerard didn't strike him as that kind of idiot. And there's a part of him that admires Gerard's moxie in the way he's earned a place among the Zonerunners in spite of clearly being in BL/ind's pocket.

Eventually, it strikes Poison that Gerard is subtly screwing BL/ind; not all the time, not in an obvious way, but a little like a mouse nibbling at the bait on a trap. One day the mouse will either eat all the bait or trigger the trap.

"You're playing a very dangerous game," he murmurs, pushing Gerard's army jacket off his shoulders before attacking his belt. Poison reaches for Gerard's stupid sunglasses, ignoring his instinctive flinch away, and puts them out of the way, safe. Gerard grunts as Poison efficiently strips him and shoves him down onto the mattress. "What do you think BL/ind's gonna do when they finally catch on?" Poison loves the way Gerard's skin tastes, follows the trail of twisted scars across his chest, down to his hip, around his side with kisses. 

"Fuck," Gerard hisses when Poison pushes him over onto his belly. His hands scrabble against the soft sheets and Poison grabs them, locks their fingers together and presses them to the mattress, pinning Gerard under him. 

"Yeah?" Poison murmurs. He drops a line of stinging bites across Gerard's shoulders, leaving behind bright red marks that fade to pink, slowly. Gerard struggles a little under him, pushing back, and Poison grins. "You like living on the edge, don't you?"

"It's the only way I know I'm still alive," Gerard mutters, and something that Poison doesn't want to examine too closely twists in his chest at that.

"Ah, pretty, there's—"

"Don't call me that." The words are clipped, and really, Poison's always had a hard time doing as he's told.

"But you are," he says. He sits up, straddling Gerard's legs and looks down at the expanse of scarred flesh in front of him. He drags his fingers down Gerard's back, feeling smoothness interrupted by bands of roughness. "Gorgeous. Beautiful. Sexy."

Gerard shakes his head sharply. "Liar."

"Oh, baby," Poison chuckles. "I _do_ lie. I lie, I steal, I cheat." He shrugs. "Doesn't change the truth. You're pretty, and you make want to do all kinds of bad things to you." He feels Gerard shudder under him and leans down, pressing himself to Gerard, skin to skin so he can whisper in Gerard's ear. "Wanna hear?"

There's a long pause; Gerard stills, holding his breath. Poison waits, patient as he so rarely is, until Gerard nods. "Yeah," he breathes. 

And Poison can't keep from laughing softly. "Thought so." He settles himself, relaxing over Gerard's body, pinning him with his weight. His cock, hard and leaking, is pressing against the softness of Gerard's ass. It's not enough, of course, but Poison can wait. For a little bit. "I want to suck your cock. It fits perfectly in my mouth, not too much, enough for me to swallow you down, make you crazy. I like the way your hips twitch, like you really want to fuck my mouth, but you're not sure I'll let you." Poison shifts his weight a little. "I'd definitely let you do that, baby."

Gerard makes a broken sound and shivers.

"I like your ass, too," Poison whispers. He levers his hips up enough so he can reach under and squeeze Gerard's ass, digging his fingers in. "Maybe one day we'll find the time and I'll eat you out." His voice drops, low and rough. "Push my way between your legs, spread you open and lick you, filthy and hot, pushing in with my tongue, making you wet."

"Oh, fuck." 

"Mmmmm, yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd push back, riding my mouth, trying to get more, desperate for it. I'd take my time, though, not let you rush me, hold you down so you couldn't move. Just keep licking, and licking, and licking. . ." He reaches for the lube Gerard had set next to the mattress earlier, pours some into his hand and pushes into Gerard with two fingers, slow and easy.

"Ah—ah, fuck," Gerard cries out, back arching. "Oh, fuck, yes, more, you fucker, gimme more—"

"Shhh," Poison says, twisting his fingers until he finds a spot that makes Gerard shudder and moan loudly. "Right there, yeah, baby?" He keeps stroking the same place, enjoying the way Gerard twitches and gasps under him. "So beautiful," he murmurs.

"Ugly," Gerard retorts, and then groans when Poison curls his fingers in punishment. "Fuck—oh, fuck—fuck you." The words are breathless and lacking in any conviction.

"No, baby," he says with a laugh. "Fuck _you_." He teases Gerard until Gerard loses his words, reduced to choked moans and whimpers. "You'd let me do that, wouldn't you? Eat you out until you're ready to scream, then fuck you, just slide in without any slick because you're so wet from my mouth? Hmmm?"

Gerard struggles a little, trying to get to his knees, but Poison keeps fucking him with his fingers, pressing him down with a hand on the small of his back keeping him exactly where he wants him.

"Or maybe the other way around," Poison murmurs, watching as his fingers sink back into Gerard. "Let you fuck me, any way you want. You wanna tie me up, gag me, make me beg for it?"

Gerard shakes his head frantically, scattering drops of sweat. "Gonna—gonna—" He's trembling, gasping, falling apart and Poison _loves_ this, feeling Gerard tighten around his fingers. 

"C'mon, pretty, c'mon." Poison presses firmly against Gerard's prostate and Gerard buries his face in his hands, twisted in the sheets, keening loudly. Poison watches, fascinated, as the orgasm moves through Gerard, seeing the way he tosses his head back, the tension in his shoulders melting, shivers chasing down his back, the clenching of his ass. 

Poison doesn't wait, doesn't give Gerard a chance to recover, pulls his fingers out and pushes in with his dick. Gerard cries out and Poison doesn't stop until he's all the way in, feeling the fluttering echoes of Gerard's orgasm. He's in as deep as he can get, Gerard surrounding him, keeping him close and Poison lets himself relax against Gerard.

Gerard inhales shakily and Poison hums softly, rolling them carefully so they're on their sides. Poison likes it like this; he can touch Gerard, pet him, wrap his arms around and hold him. "S'okay, I've got you," he says, nuzzling at the side of Gerard's neck.

"Fuck," Gerard manages, and Poison pretends that he doesn't hear the tears in Gerard's voice.

"Yeah, exactly," he drawls, and bites at the slope of Gerard's shoulder. He circles his hips, grinding in, and smiles when he hears Gerard catch his breath. "Ready for more?"

"Bastard," Gerard mumbles.

Poison laughs and strokes his hand down Gerard's chest, rests against his belly for a moment, before moving down to Gerard's cock, sticky and spent. He holds it in his palm, ignoring Gerard's little sound of discomfort, waiting. "You gonna get hard again from me fucking you?" Poison pulls back and then pushes in shallowly; the position limits what he can do, but Poison's good at this, he can make it work for them. "Yeah?"

Gerard tips his head back and rests it on Poison's shoulder, exposing the long line of his neck and Poison can't keep his hands away, drags his ragged fingernails up and down the soft skin. "Please," Gerard whispers, and Poison can feel the words vibrate in Gerard's throat.

"Anything you want, pretty," Poison whispers back, and guides Gerard's leg to rest over Poison's, opening him up further. Gerard makes an uncertain sound, a little scared, and Poison soothes him. "S'okay, gonna make you feel good, promise, let me take care of you. . ."

And Poison does. He bites his lip for some measure of control and rocks them together, soft and sweet, cradling Gerard's cock in his hand as he gets hard, listening to the broken sounds torn out of Gerard, nosing at the back of Gerard's neck and trying to make this feeling of closeness last forever.

It doesn't, of course. Nothing lasts forever, but Poison tries his best, and for now, it's enough.

* * *

He keeps tabs on Gerard as best he can, but it's the Zones. Information travels strangely out here, when it travels at all, and he ends up getting a lot of his info from intercepted BL/ind transmissions, post-fight interviews and promos. Kobra and Jet keep him updated, too, using Gerard as an excuse to go to the Zone 5 fights. Poison just rolls his eyes at them.

Sometimes Gerard tosses a scrap of intel Poison's way, the location of the next wave of Drac raids or the routes of water supply convoys. Over the years the info's always shiny, but Poison is still careful, still wary, because Gerard can't be trusted.

Poison doesn't know what Gerard's game is, doesn't really care, and certainly won't ever admit to _worrying_ about the stupid motherfucker, especially on fight nights. He remembers the nightmares that plagued Gerard's sleep, and the ragged scars.

As the days and months go by, their run-ins become more infrequent, their paths rarely crossing. BL/ind keeps both of them busy in their own ways. Jet is earnest in keeping track of the fight standings, though, so Poison knows that Gerard is still alive and kicking.

Sometimes, Poison pauses and touches Gerard's face on the vidscreen, smiling at his ridiculous sunglasses and wonders about lost chances, and lost causes.

* * *

Poison hears the coded broadcast from WKIL and his heart skips a beat, because all the message says is _danger_ and _come_.

"What was that?" Gerard asks, dark hair swirling in the wind. 

At least Poison doesn't have to worry about Gerard. But it could be any of his Killjoys, or maybe Gerard's boys or Show Pony or— Poison wonders, fleetingly, when he became attached to so many fucking people. "Something's wrong; D's calling us in." He brakes and spins the steering wheel, sending the Am into a skid, a rooster tail of dust kicking up behind them.

Gerard touches his arm briefly and Poison flexes his hands as he heads toward the old agricultural station that D and Pony commandeered. It's a long, tense drive, with Poison trying not to imagine every bad thing that could happen to every person he holds close to his heart.

"It's gonna be okay," Gerard says, trying to be optimistic. 

Poison slants a quick glare at him, because out here in the Zones, it's usually _not_ okay. "Right."

"C'mon, baby, work with me," Gerard says, resting his hand on Poison's leg. 

"The message said danger, Gee." Poison bites out, focusing on the rutted road in front of him. "Whatever it is, it's not good."

"I know," Gerard says softly.

The rest of the drive is silent and when they pull up to the station D's customized van is sitting out front, along with Ghoul's little dirtbike. "Fuck," Poison mutters, slamming the Am to a stop and jumping out. Before he even gets to the door Pony is there, looking serious, and— "Ghoul?"

Pony shakes zir head. Zie reaches out and touches Poison's shoulder, squeezing hard. "It's Gerard."

"Gerard's right there," Poison retorts, pointing toward him. "He's fine."

"No, the other Gerard. The fighter."

Poison feels the blood drain out of his face. He'd been expecting this for years, but now that something's finally happened, he finds that he isn't prepared at all. "Is he dead?"

"The other Gerard?" Gerard asks, curiosity written across his face. He's standing close to Poison, and he lets his hand brush against Poison's for just a moment.

"He's still alive, but—" Pony cuts zirself off, unwilling to finish the sentence.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Poison hisses. He looks at Pony, ignoring the churning in his gut. "What happened?"

Pony shrugs. "He asked for help, wanted to get away from BL/ind. Ghoul and I went to pick him up out in Zone 5, but there was a raid. A bunch of Dracs; it was a fucking mess."

"Ghoul okay?" Gerard asks before Poison has a chance to.

Pony smiles. "Little scraped up, pissed as hell, but yeah, he's fine."

Poison lets out the breath he'd been holding. "And Gerard?"

"He's a tough motherfucker," Pony says. Poison thinks zie's going to say something else, but zie doesn't, zie just looks away.

Somehow his fingers have tangled with Gerard's, _his_ Gerard's fingers and Poison shakes them loose. "Stay here," he says to Gerard, and pushes past Pony into the building.

It's dim inside, and D is in his wheelchair, staring out the window. He looks at Poison when he comes in. "In back," he says, face and voice blank. His face is hidden behind his sunglasses and Poison's glad, because he doesn't think he can handle what he might see in D's eyes.

"Thanks," he mutters, and goes into the back room. The door's open and Poison looks in. Ghoul's there, a little scorched around the edges, stripped down to a tee shirt, bloody bandage high on one arm. He's sitting on the edge of a bed, talking quietly and wiping the dirt and sweat off Gerard's face with a damp cloth.

Poison watches for a minute before gathering the courage to step in, to touch Ghoul to reassure himself. Ghoul looks up, and Poison can tell from the look in his eyes that Gerard is bad off. "You okay?" he asks, and Ghoul nods.

"Fucking Dracs," is all he says, though. All that needs to be said, really.

"Yeah," Poison agrees, taking the cloth that Ghoul hands him as he stands up to go. "Thanks." He doesn't look at Gerard, _can't_ yet, so he twists the cloth between his hands and takes a deep breath, holding it before letting go on an almost silent sigh.

"Never figured you for a coward," Gerard says weakly.

Poison snorts and turns to face him. "Yeah, and I never figured you for a fucking idiot." Gerard looks bad, pale and sweating. He's covered in bruises and cuts, the larger ones closed up with Pony's careful little stitches. He's wearing a frayed dress shirt that's unbuttoned; Poison can see the blood-splattered bandages wrapped around Gerard's middle. "I _told_ you it was a fucking dangerous game you were playing."

Gerard shrugs, and then winces a little.

"You want something for the pain?" Poison gingerly sits on the edge of the bed, pushing Gerard's brown hair back off his forehead. He's burning up with a fever.

"Not yet," Gerard says. "Later." There's no illusions, Gerard's never been one to look for the silver lining. He knows, as Poison does, that it's only going to get worse.

"Okay, pretty," Poison says, and Gerard chokes on a laugh and it's not long before the laughter turns to coughing and Gerard clutches at his stomach and gasps for air.

Poison sits next to Gerard, supporting him as tries to catch his breath. It takes a long time, and when he sags back onto the pillows, Poison can see that there's more red blooming on the bandages.

"So fucking _not_ ," Gerard wheezes, and it startles a laugh out of Poison.

"Always," he says. "Even now."

"Liar."

"Never denied it. But still telling the truth."

Gerard shakes his head, but doesn't say anything. 

"What happened?" Poison asks. He doesn't really care, because Ghoul is safe and Gerard, _this_ Gerard isn't, but it keeps his mind from dwelling on the truth of the situation. 

Gerard's getting weaker even as Poison's watching, he can almost see the life and energy draining out of Gerard. He coughs. "Wanted to get out."

Poison flinches at the words, even though there's not a hint of accusation in them. He bites his lip and has to look away from the wreck of Gerard's body, starts to stand up because he's going to be sick. . .

He can't, because Gerard's grabbed hold of his wrist. "Don't. It's okay."

"Oh, pretty, this is so fucking far from okay it's not even funny," Poison snaps back.

Gerard twines their fingers together. "You don't get it. I didn't _try_ to get out, I _did_ get out. And for the first time in my fucking life, I'm free, out from under BL/ind." He smiles, and it's heartbreaking to see.

Poison tries to pull his hand away. "It's not worth the cost," he hisses. "Not worth it. Better alive in Bat City than—" Poison stops and swallows hard. He can't make himself say the words.

Gerard shrugs. "Never thought I'd make it, anyway."

"Idiot," Poison says again. And there's a measure of resigned fondness in his voice that should surprise him, but doesn't.

"Yeah," Gerard agrees.

* * *

Gerard falls asleep mid-sentence and Poison takes the opportunity to look at Gerard, really _see_ him. Living a double life hasn't been easy, and his face shows it, faint wrinkles and crows feet. Poison traces Gerard's cheekbone. Still gorgeous, even after all this time.

"Poison?"

Poison looks up at Gerard, _his_ Gerard, standing in the doorway, quiet and concerned. 

"Hey." Poison tries out a smile, but he's pretty sure he's not fooling Gerard at all. He realizes that he'd just left Gerard to his own devices without a second thought. "Sorry, sugar. Didn't mean to dump you. You should get Ghoul to take you home, or—" He keeps his voice low; he doesn't want to disturb the other Gerard's sleep.

Gerard waves him off. "It's cool." He moves a little closer. "So this is your first Gerard."

Poison narrows his eyes at him. "I never mentioned him to you," he says.

Gerard rolls his eyes and scowls, brushing back his hair. "You didn't need to."

Poison doesn't really know what to make of that. "Listen—"

"No, it's okay," Gerard says. "Dr. D and Pony have some stuff I can help out with. I'll wait for you." He reaches out and tips Poison's chin up, pressing a kiss to his lips.

Gerard's kiss is so sweet and gentle that it almost breaks him; Poison has to scrub at his face afterwards, reaching for some scrap of control. "Thanks," and his voice is rough. He's not entirely sure Gerard hears it over the click of the door closing behind him.

* * *

Poison sits in a chair and watches over Gerard. He helps Ghoul when he comes to change the bandages, and pretends he doesn't see the way Ghoul's mouth tightens at how quickly the new gauze turns red. They make Gerard as comfortable as possible, giving him some pills to dull the pain that's starting to eat away at him.

"I saw your Gerard once, at a show," Gerard says, and Poison is sure he looks comically surprised. Gerard raises an eyebrow. "What? I kept tabs on you."

Poison sighs. "Of course you did." He fiddles with one of his bad-luck bracelets, the one with the little skull beads. "Him and his band have something special going on. The music. . .it speaks to the kids, the Zonerunners."

Gerard nods. "It was an amazing show. A lot of energy and heart."

A small smile creeps onto Poison's face. "Yeah." He looks up to find Gerard studying him. "What?"

"He suits you."

Poison shrugs carelessly. The thing between him and Gerard doesn't bear close scrutiny. 

"He _does_."

"He's prickly, sometimes."

Which makes Gerard laugh until he coughs, but this time, he coughs up blood, bright red spatters of it on the sleeve of Gerard's shirt.

"I'm going to get Ghoul," Poison says, but Gerard waves at him weakly.

"Don't bother. There's nothing he can do."

Poison opens his mouth to argue, because he doesn't give up without a struggle. It's not in his nature to stop fighting, to lay down and—

"It's okay," Gerard finally says.

"It's _not_." Poison's voice is small and lost, and he clears his throat. He sees Gerard shiver and gets out of the chair. "Scoot over."

Gerard does, and Poison slides in next to him, cradling him carefully, pulling a blanket over them. "It's going to be okay," Poison says, and wishes it were true.

-fin-


End file.
